Macbeth's Niece (34 page)

“My brother certainly seems able to capture
the affections of women.”

Tessa had to agree. “The outlaws might have
killed him had it not been for Mairie’s interest,” she
murmured.

“Mairie?” Aidan looked shocked for a moment.
“What an odd name. Is it Scots?”

“No,” Tessa replied. “She is French. At
least her mother was. She kept Jeffrey alive by persuading her
brother—the outlaw lord—to spare him once William refused to pay
the ransom. If Jeffrey has escaped, he will return to Brixton as
soon as he can.”

There was a pause. “To Brixton or to you?”
Aidan asked pointedly. “Did you not say my brother dallied with
Eleanor? Now you would take her leavings, knowing it’s only because
she is dead that he has turned to you?”

Tessa was firm, knowing she must convince
Aidan to stop dreaming they would someday wed. Facing him squarely
she said, “My feelings for him have nothing to do with Eleanor, nor
anything to do with you and me. I told you before, I cannot promise
myself to you—someone I care about—knowing I cannot return love for
love.”

Tessa moved toward him instinctively,
pleading for understanding. Aidan moved suddenly, almost as if he’d
been asleep and jarred awake. He smiled and his face softened,
melting the tension between them. “It seems I must again accept
your decision, though I hope you will consider my offer when you
have time to think. Remember, if Jeffrey does return, he’ll be
master of Brixton. He might not see you in the same way as he did
when he was simply the youngest brother of Sir William Brixton. I,
however, will love you no matter who you are and who I may become.
Think on that, will you, Tess?”

His words, though phrased delicately enough,
were a warning. Jeffrey as Lord Brixton could have any woman he
wanted. Why would he look to one such as she, who lived in a cheap
inn and wore the same dress every day? It was a thought to be
considered, and Aidan meant well by it, trying to make her see the
hopelessness of her longing for Jeffrey. He picked up his cloak and
shrugged it on.

“Well. It’s wonderful to hear Jeffrey is
alive and has escaped Hawick. I must return to Brixton immediately
to discover if my brother has indeed returned.” He was himself
again, warm and charming. He smiled down at Tessa and his eyes
glowed as he said, “Make use of the house here in town. It is yours
for as long as you like.”

“Oh, Aidan, I couldn’t—”

“Nonsense. As I’ve said, the world still
thinks of you as Eleanor’s sister, so you have every right. If you
like, I will bring Cecilia with me when I return so you shall be
properly chaperoned.”

It was tempting, and she knew Eleanor would
urge her to accept, though William would turn over in his newly
made grave. “Thank you, Aidan. I will consider it, but for the
moment I shall stay here.” Unencumbered by favors owed, her mind
finished the thought.

He was gracious, and, giving her a formal
little bow, left the inn briskly, already occupied with the
future.

Poor Aidan, Tessa thought, to be sure he’d
finally reached the prize for which he’d evidently yearned, and
then to find it might not be his after all. He was older than
Jeffrey, but illegitimate. That meant the title went to Jeffrey
first. Tessa hoped he wasn’t too downcast at the turn events had
taken. Something he had said seemed odd, but she could not settle
on what it was. She returned to her room as the thought pestered
her, but the answer never became clear.

Banaugh came that afternoon, as promised,
and they walked together to the shop where he now worked. He
introduced Tessa to Mrs. Goode, the proprietress, a woman whose
thick figure and gray hair did nothing to diminish her engaging
manner and pleasant expression.

“Fergus tells me you are responsible for him
comin’ to London, so I must thank ye, Mistress. Since my husband
died, I’ve had offers of assistance from men, to be sure, but every
one had his eye on a prosperous business and an easy life with his
wife doin’ the work. Now Fergus here—” Odd, Tessa thought, that
she’d never known his first name. “—be willin’ to work, and for a
woman as well, and that’s a blessing.”

“He will be a treasure,” Tessa replied.
After a pleasant visit, she left alone, assuring Banaugh she could
find her way back safely. She was actually a little sad. Banaugh
and his new employer got on very well, and it was obvious he’d
found his place in London. Of course, he would keep an eye on her,
but he didn’t need her.

The next few days were spent peacefully,
resting and recuperating from the months of travel and strain she
had experienced. Tessa’s hair regained its luster, her fingernails
grew back, and the skin on her nose and forehead stopped peeling
from too much exposure to the sun. She received with joy a basket
from Mary that included creams, soaps, and other sundries ladies
find worthwhile, and she did her best to repair the ravages of her
days in the wilderness.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Late one afternoon Tessa was resting in her
room when once again the child rapped on the door. “You’ve a
visitor,” she announced, her voice conveying adolescent resentment
of so many trips upstairs on Tessa’s behalf.

“I thought Aidan had gone to York,” Tessa
muttered.

“Not that man, a different one this time,”
came the terse response.

Following the girl down the stairs, she
entered the inn’s common room to find Jeffrey pacing the small
space like a caged tiger.

“Jeffr—Master Brixton,” Tessa said, aware of
the landlord’s daughter staring at them coolly. She dismissed the
girl with a nod of thanks. “How did you find me?”

Jeffrey’s blue eyes flashed in his tanned
face. “Mistress macFindlaech, I have been over half the island of
Britain searching for you.” Pacing back and forth, he recounted his
movements in a low voice as Tessa stood rapt. He had been searching
for her! “I went to Jedburgh as soon as I escaped Hawick’s. You
were not there and no one remembered seeing you, either as miss or
lad. Then I went north, thinking you had returned to your family.
On the way I asked about an old man and a boy everywhere I stopped.
Finally a sheep herder remembered you, riding on fine horses, he
said, like the one I rode. Banaugh had asked directions to Scone. I
was hardly able to believe you would go directly into such danger,
but I traveled to Scone myself, arriving just after Malcolm’s
coronation. There I met my brother Ethelbert, of all people, who
had a story to tell of a captive who had assured him I was alive.
Where had she gone? I asked him. All he knew was that you had
promised to leave Scotland.”

Jeffrey ran a hand through his hair again at
the memory. “I could have shaken him for letting you go blithely
off on your own, though I should have known Banaugh would look
after you. Finally I rode to Saint Andrews and began questioning
ships’ crews. Banaugh was wise enough to leave a message with your
ship’s captain that led me to London. A maid at Mary’s in-laws
directed me here, having heard Mary mention your presence at the
Mace and Thyme.” His face showed the frustration he’d experienced
in the last weeks. “In short, I have had a devil of a time tracking
you down. Now, what in the name of heaven were you doing at
Scone?”

Tessa wanted to talk but sensed a half-grown
witness lurking around the doorway. “Let us walk. We have things to
discuss.” She asked the girl to fetch her cloak. Jeffrey gave her a
small coin, which had a positive effect on her speed, and they went
out into the chilly autumn evening. She quickly told Jeffrey of
Banaugh’s new position and suggested they go to the shop, where the
old man could listen and they could keep warm.

They were largely silent as they walked,
Tessa’s head filled with uncertainty of how she felt about
Jeffrey’s visit. Part of her whispered to reject any contact with
this man she was so unsure of, but another part of her sang with
joy that he had sought her out. Perhaps she should have sent him
away, but she knew she could not do it.

The shop was half-filled with what looked
like regular custom, men with roughened hands and serviceable
clothing. They looked curiously at the two, the well-dressed man
and the striking girl, but went back to their own pursuits as
Banaugh escorted his friends to a table at the back. Introductions
had to be made for the benefit of Mrs. Goode. Then she went off,
assuring Banaugh she could handle the trade for an hour. Banaugh
told Jeffrey some of their adventures, making light of the danger
and giving Tessa much credit for her bravery and her stamina. She
said little, and finally Banaugh invited Jeffrey to tell his story.
“So, Master Brixton, your escape went well?”

Jeffrey unfolded his long legs and regarded
his feet, now drying in the fire’s warmth, before answering. “Not
as well at first as I’d hoped, but well enough,” he said without
looking at either of them. “They were so concerned with catching
Tessa that they quite forgot about me.”

“Did they learn you’d helped me escape?”

“Hawick had no idea I was hiding in the
room. He is sure you had a weapon hidden in the sleeve of your
gown.”

Tessa chuckled despite herself. “If I’d
thought of it, I would have done so.”

“Once you escaped, Hawick rethought his
plans and decided to throw his lot in with Malcolm.” It was the
first jarring note to Jeffrey’s homecoming, since his listeners had
heard Hawick’s man say the decision had come at Jeffrey’s
instigation.

Banaugh’s eyes slid to Tessa’s face to gauge
her reaction. Seeing her jaw clench, he rose to leave them alone,
but not before he let Tessa know his feelings about Jeffrey. “Ye’re
a good man, an’ a lucky one t’ ha’ lived sae long among tha’ pack
o’ dogs an’ come oot wi’ yer whole skin, Master Brixton. Now I’ll
be off t’ help Mistress Goode, an’ ye twa can speak t’ each other
alone.” He went off, leaving Tessa staring at the rough plank
table.

“What is it, Tessa?” Jeffrey asked. “Have
you something to say?”

“No.”

“Is something amiss between us?”

She straightened and looked at him directly,
her chin up. “No. We are as we have always been, two people with
vast differences between us.”

Jeffrey’s head cocked to one side as he
tried to figure that one out, but he left it alone for the time
being. “You have not told me what it was that took you to Scone,
into the mouth of danger. Truly, I thought you would go home to the
Cairngorms.”

She took a deep breath, deciding the truth
was best, no matter what the consequence might be. “I had to find
my uncle, Jeffrey. You see, Banaugh and I heard Dougal talking as
they searched for us on the road. After that, we went north to warn
Macbeth of your advice to Hawick that he assassinate the king.”

Jeffrey’s eyes widened and a frown furrowed
his brow. “My advice?” Then he scowled even more. “Tessa, do you
really believe I would plot the murder of your uncle, enemy of
England or not?”

She was thrown into confusion. “I—I didn’t
know what to believe. We heard Dougal and the other man say it was
your idea.”

“Well, they were wrong or you
misunderstood.”

“Banaugh heard it too. They said the
Englishman advised that assassinating Macbeth would prove Hawick’s
loyalty to Malcolm.”

Jeffrey slapped the table sharply and his
face cleared. “There, I knew it. Are there not other Englishmen in
the world beside me, Mistress macFindlaech?”

Tessa felt relief and embarrassment at once
as the truth dawned. “You mean—”

“I am not the one they spoke of. In truth, I
have some suspicion as to who the man might be, but I cannot prove
it yet.” Jeffrey leaned toward Tessa, his hands spread out on the
table between them. “In my time of captivity, Hawick referred to an
English partner who dealt in stolen goods and other worse things.
He was careful never to mention the man’s name. He was simply
called the Englishman when they spoke of him, but the man regularly
sent information to the outlaws to help them plan their crimes:
ship’s routes, wealthy travelers near the borders, things like
that. The box you brought to me at Hawick’s contained Eleanor’s
suspicions of a certain person, which confirmed my own. Having no
proof, I will not say his name, but it was he, I am sure, Dougal
spoke of. He must have advised taking Malcolm’s side after gleaning
information at Court about the invading army’s strength and
leadership.”

“So he thought Macbeth’s army would be
defeated. Hawick hoped to gain favor by handing Malcolm the
throne.”

“Yes. Once you escaped, he must also have
feared what you might tell your uncle about him. He would have had
no chance with Macbeth after mistreating you as he did.”

Tessa nodded. “I see. What a snake that man
is.”

“You need not tell me that. I struggled to
stay alive in his snake pit for many months. At Scone, I told
Ethelbert about Hawick and this associate in England. He said he
had relayed what you told him to Malcolm Canmore, and he would add
my information to yours. As yet the man’s position as king is so
fragile that he dares not accuse Hawick, but once he is firmly in
control, Malcolm has promised to root out the robber lords like
Hawick, even those who purport to have done him service.”

“Such action would be good for both our
countries.”

Jeffrey looked into Tessa’s eyes earnestly.
“I promise you it was not I who hatched that plot. I know not what
kind of man Macbeth was, but I would never be party to
assassination, and besides, he was your uncle. A mercenary I may
be, but I would not betray…a friend.” This last was almost
something else, but Tessa couldn’t decide what word he might have
used.

The mention of his occupation brought to
Tessa’s mind word of William’s death. “I am sorry to have misjudged
you,” she apologized. “But Jeffrey, I have news that will affect
you greatly.” She told him everything: her capture and escape from
Scone, her meeting with Ethelbert, and finally Aidan’s visit. “Your
brother William died, not over ten days ago, which means you are
heir to Brixton.”